When Given a Second Chance
by AllByMyLonesome
Summary: What really happened when Sirius fell through the veil? Did it really end his life? When Sirius is given a second chance at a life without Azkaban, will he take it with both hands? A story of forgiving the past and learning to live in the present
1. Chapter 1

Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: He was laughing at her: "Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore turned to the dais too.  
>It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch...<p>

And Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face, as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.

Harry heard Bellatrix's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing - Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second.

But Sirius did not reappear.

-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

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><p>"Huh?" As inarticulate as the thought was, it was the only one passing through Sirius' mind as his stared at Bellatrix, whose face was lit with glee. He knew not what curse she had cast, but it had thrown his body backwards, and he was pushed through the air seemingly in slow motion. He felt his body pass through a gentle fabric, the veil that stood at the center of the room, and his eyes widened in shock. His last glimpse was of Harry's frantic gaze before the veil fluttered shut again.<p>

* * *

><p>Thump, thump, thump… every beat of his heart echoed around his skull, each pound intensifying the throbbing headache located right between his eyes. Groaning, he rolled onto his side, still with his eyes squeezed shut, and sucked in a great lungful of air. Once he had regained his breath, he cautiously opened one eye.<p>

All around him was white, and he seemed to be alone. He opened both eyes, and pushed himself up onto his elbows. Although the entire room seemed to be giving off a white light, he could tell that he was lying on the rug in front of the empty fireplace in the Gryffindor common. Letting out a sharp bark of a laugh, he pushed himself to his feet, one hand clutching his pounding headache, and sank onto the couch. Kicking his legs out in front of him, he settled back and began to scan the room. It had a surrealist quality to it: the place was entirely devoid of color, and seemed to be glowing. There was less furniture in the room than Sirius remembered; the couch he sat on and a small table by the door were the only things filling the empty space. He took a deep breath and waited for the pounding in his skull to subside.

As his headache slowly dissipated, Sirius stood and began to explore the room. It was devoid of everything that had once made it home, and the state of the room left him remarkably lonely. He walked towards the stairs that led to the dormitories, but they seemed to fade into nothingness after the first step, so he didn't continue in that direction. Instead, he turned around and made for the door, twisting the handle. Just as he was about to open the door, he heard an all-too-familiar voice behind him.

"You might not want to do that, mate." Sirius spun to face the source of the voice and his jaw dropped in shock, for there standing before him was James Potter. James chuckled and said smartly, "And you might want to close your mouth too, Padfoot, you don't know what bugs might be flying around this place." Sirius snapped his mouth shut and walked towards he friend in a daze. He stopped at arms length from James and simply stared.

Finally he opened his mouth. At first nothing came out and he had to clear his throat before he could speak. "P-Prongs?" A grin lit James' face, and he stepped forward, enveloping Sirius in a brotherly embrace. Sirius clung to James' shirt, a hot tear running across his cheek. "I've missed you, mate," He said hoarsely.

James stepped back and said simply, "I know." They both smiled sadly, still clasping one another's forearms.

After a moment of silence, Sirius asked cautiously, "Prongs, where are we?" James sighed, and swung an arm over Sirius' shoulder. Leading him to the couch, he sat and turned to face him.

"What do you remember, Padfoot?"

Sirius sat back against the couch and began to search his memory. "Harry. I remember him very clearly. He looked devastated. And Bella, gods, I can remember her all too clearly. We were at Grimauld place. I was upstairs with Buckbeak—it's the only place I can really think, you know?"

James chuckled. "Something about hippogriff droppings and dead ferrets, right?"

Sirius laughed hollowly, before returning to the memories. "Snape. Snape showed up, said Harry was being reckless again. All your genes, I'm sure, Prongs." He quipped and James laughed again. "We were at the Department of Mysteries, in the veil room…" He paused, finally remembering enough to put the pieces together in his head. Slowly he turned to James, and looking him in the eye, asked quietly,

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

* * *

><p>"RONALD WEASLEY!"<p>

A high feminine voice echoed through Grimauld Place. Harry Potter cringed slightly and looked up at his girlfriend sitting at the other end of the bed. She had been looking through a small book until the shrill cry was heard, at which point, she looked up at Harry, and sighed, "What has my idiot brother done this time?" Harry smirked but did not respond. Instead, he cast a quick silencing charm on the door before returning to his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages. He looked up again, as he felt Ginny slide closer to his side on the bed and entwine her fingers with his. He smiled softly at her and squeezed her fingers in response before both of them returned to their reading.

Downstairs in the second-pantry-turned-washroom, a decidedly less endearing scene was taking place. Ron had trudged down the stairs reluctantly; bracing himself for the lecture his girlfriend was about to give him. He racked his brain, trying to think of what he might have done to deserve this next lecture. Being Hermione Granger's boyfriend was great and all—he had always loved her expected them to be together—but it certainly could be trying on a man's patience. Just last yesterday, he had received a lecture on the proper care of books, and the day before that on the slovenly condition of his room. For God's sake, woman, he had thought, I'm a man. I'm supposed to be messy; it's as unavoidable as having male bits or liking Quidditch.

However, slovenliness aside, Ron's main problem lay in that he could not tell the difference between Hermione's various stages of angry. Ron had never been good at reading people, let alone girls, and Hermione was no exception. So it was unsurprising that his nonchalant attitude and resigned slouch was very unwelcome to his positively seething girlfriend.

Hermione Granger was known for many things. To Ron, she was the girl he was supposed to end up with. To Harry, she was the witch he would have died without (even Ginny knew how much she owed to the older witch for keeping her boyfriend alive). To her parents, Hermione was their angel. To Draco Malfoy, she was the bookworm and the mudblood. To the majority of the wizarding world, she was the brightest witch of her age. But all who knew her would agree that Hermione's temper was about as strong as her love of learning, and no one, not even Draco Malfoy, enjoyed being on the receiving end of her anger.

So when Ron appeared in the doorway, slouching against the frame with a bored look in his eyes, Hermione went from royally pissed off to utterly enraged. Her entire body shook with the force of her anger, and if a look could kill, Ron would be nothing more than a pile of ashes. Through clenched teeth, she asked, "Could you, Ronald, explain to me what this is doing in our wash?" and she slowly pulled from the large basket of clothing, a small, lacey wad of black cloth. She shook it slightly, and it unraveled to reveal a skimpy, frilly piece of lingerie. It had garters and a scoop neck too low to cover anything, and, horror of horrors, buttoned at the crotch. Needless to say, only an idiot would assume it belonged to Hermione. However, many people have said over the years, that Ron was only one step away from being a classified idiot, and he next statement set him down as an imbecile for life.

"It's not y-yours?" he asked with a very obvious bob of his Adam's apple. This was the last straw for Hermione.

"MINE? Mine! Can you honestly imagine I would wear something like this? Don't answer that! You IDIOT! You JERK! You ASSHOLE! Who? Who was it? Was it Lav-Lav by any chance? She was all over you the other night. Did you decide to have a little fun because I wasn't putting out? I wanted to wait, but you just couldn't have that could you, you JACKASS! How long has this been going on? I'm not an idiot you know. I knew that "burn" last week wasn't really a burn. I was willing to forgive you, but now? While holding this, this, I don't even have the words! You know, I've had it, Okay Ronald? I'm done. We're done. You can go screw whoever you like right now, I don't even care anymore. Have fun, okay? Oh and by the way, she'll probably want this back." She flung the skimpy garment in his face and stormed out of the room. Throughout the entire speech he had been growing paler and paler, and his brain was now whirring with the implication of what she had just said. After a moment, he spun around and ran up the stairs, with the lacey lingerie still clasped in his hand.

"Hermione! Hermione, wait! Please! I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking!" But by the time he reached to top of the stairs, Hermione's cloak was missing from the coat rack in the hall, and the quiet of the house was interrupted only by the intermittent cries of Mrs. Black: "Mudbloods!" and "Blood traitors!" Hermione was gone.

Ron climbed the stairs wearily until he reached Harry's room, the one that used to be Sirius', and opened the door without knocking. Harry and Ginny looked up from their cuddling on the bed, and gazed in askance at Ron.

Realizing that they hadn't heard a word of the fight, he said with shock in his voice, "She left."

Harry's eyes widened, uncomprehending, but Ginny's had landed on the lace outfit in her brother's hand, and she glared at him, saying quietly.

"You did, didn't you?" Ron looked at his sister and then down at the lingerie in his hand. Warily he raised his eyes to hers, and the shame in her eyes caught him off guard. She continued softly, "You may be my brother, but you're an asshole Ronald Weasley." The realization of what he had done finally began to sink in, and he turned his gaze to Harry, searching for any shred of forgiveness. He found none. Seeing the disappointment in his best friend's eyes was too much for Ron, and he went to his room and locked the door.

* * *

><p>As the lock clicked on Ronald Weasley's door, Hermione was pacing back and forth across what used to be her family's living room. Her parents had long since moved from the house, leaving it in Hermione's possession. It seemed forlorn without people to fill it, but she hadn't had the heart to sell it. Now, she was glad of her reluctance. Having the house to herself and not having to live off of another friend's charity was a blessing in and of itself. Of course, she would be returning to Hogwarts in a few days time to finish up the year she had missed during the wizarding war, but having the security of her own home was a significant plus.<p>

And how she needed those securities just then. She still shook with rage at her now ex-boyfriend's behavior, and for once she thanked her lucky stars that he didn't like school. This of course meant that he would not be returning for his "eighth" year at Hogwarts, giving her a much-needed break from his idiotic behavior.

After ten minutes of alternating pacing and ranting, she calmed down enough to go to the kitchen and make herself a hot cup of tea. She sat at the kitchen table staring at her finger as it spun the spoon, magically stirring her drink. Remarkably, she felt no need to mourn the loss of her relationship-she was hurt, not sad-and belatedly realized that the two of them had been growing apart for months. She was letting this insight wash over her, when the pop of apparation startled her from her thoughts. Spinning around, she caught sight of bright red hair in the mirror in front of her living room and was about to start yelling again, when a cautious female voice called,

"Hermione?"

Realizing that it was Ginny and not her brother, Hermione returned her gaze to her tea and called back wearily, "In the kitchen, Gin."

Soft footfalls approached and the scraping of a chair against the tile floor made Hermione look up into the brown eyes of the youngest Weasley. Ginny took Hermione's hand, asking,

"Are you alright? Ron's an idiot…"

Hermione cut over her. "I'm fine, Gin, but can we please not talk about your brother?"

Ginny nodded quickly and replied, "Of course. I brought some of your clothes and a couple books. I think I packed _Hogwarts: A History _too. Figured you might need a little comfort tonight." Hermione smiled softly in response but said nothing. Ginny continued, "I'll bring the rest over tomorrow with Harry if that's alright."

Hermione nodded, secretly pleased that Harry was at last taking her side of the argument. "Of course, Gin, I'd like to see him. But for now, I'd kind of like to go to bed, if you don't mind." Ginny nodded, understanding at once. She stood and gave Hermione a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'll see you tomorrow, 'Mione," she said softly, and walked to the front door where she spun on her heel and dissaparated.

Hermione sighed softly and stood. Draining the last of her tea, she placed the empty mug in the sink and trudged up the stairs lethargically. She walked into her old room and a small smile lit her face. She crossed to her bed and climbed in, not bothering to shed any clothes but her shoes, and fell into a troubled sleep.

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><p>Hope you liked it. Please review!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

James looked at Sirius and slowly nodded his head, wary of Sirius' reaction. Instead of the explosion that he expected, Sirius sighed and slouched back into the couch, seemingly much smaller than he had been two minutes go. The silence stretched on between them, and James began to get worried.

"Sirius…" He hesitantly broke the silence. Sirius did not respond. "Padfoot, talk to me, mate." Still he did not respond. James was growing desperate and was about to force a response from his friend when Sirius' voice froze him in place.

"It just figures, you know?" His voice sounded utterly defeated as he continued. "All those years in Azkaban, and I still can't do anything even when I escape. I was trapped all my life, and now I'm dead. What a life I've led, right? Who wouldn't want to be me?" The sarcasm practically dripped from his lips and the bitterness and spite in his tone hurt James to his core. He tried to remind Sirius of what he had accomplished—he hadn't been trapped his whole life after all—just think of the pranks they had played—but nothing made any difference. Finally, James fell silent, sitting beside his brooding friend, waiting for the mood to shift.

Hours later—it could have been days really, who knew in the white room? —and still no one had spoken. James was about to explode. He wasn't used to this new, depressed side of Sirius Black and he didn't like it. However, no outburst from James was needed after all, because, a moment later, a long scream rent the air, and both men started up suddenly, wands reaching for their empty back pockets. Out of nowhere, a woman fell onto the carpet in front of the two, just as Sirius had before. She started up, shivering and muttering, glancing around in fear and anxiousness, but did not seem to see James or Sirius. She paced once, twice, three times around the room, rubbing her hands together in a vain attempt to warm them, when all at once, vivid green flames rose up in the grate before the three figures. Quickly, and without hesitation, she rushed to the flames and stepped inside, and just as quickly as she appeared, she vanished. The flames slowly burnt down, until nothing by soot remained in the fireplace. The two men looked at each other, one with a look of shock and the other of sadness.

"Was that…?" Sirius trailed off unsure, although comprehension was starting to work its way into his mind.

"Voldemort has been busy, I suppose," James said, avoiding Sirius' unspoken question. He paced to the far side of the wall and gazed up what seemed to be the stairs to the dormitories with a far off look in his eyes. Sirius approached him warily.

"Prongs? What's up there?" James looked at his friend, startled.

"You can't see…? Oh, of course not. I can see Lily from here; it's one of the benefits of hanging around here, I suppose."

Sirius looked at him in shock. "You mean you've been stuck here all this time? For fifteen years?"

James looked at him suddenly, "Fifteen years? Has it really been that long? Good gods. Harry must be so grown up," his voice was thick with emotion. Sirius felt his throat closing too.

"He is, James, and he's a wonderful boy. You should be so proud of him, both of you." James looked at him expectantly, yearning for more news of his son. What little he could glimpse from the world beyond showed him what a wonderful boy he was, but he wanted to know so much more. Sirius understood without a word and continued, "He's loyal and brave, and he gets up to almost as much mischief as we did back then." He paused with a chuckle before growing solemn again. "He's had to go through so much, but he's still so strong. And he's the spitting image of you, too. Except his eyes, he has Lily's eyes." Sirius stopped again, a far-off look in his eyes as well. Suddenly, he started and turned back to James. "Speaking of whom, you said you could see Lily. Can she see us?"

James smiled fondly. "Yes, and hear us as well. It's easier for her from that side, you know. She's waving to you, by the way."

Sirius chuckled, and, although he felt slightly foolish, gave a small wave back up the stairs. James laughed at Sirius' awkward expression and with a last smile in Lily's direction, turned back to Sirius. "To answer your question, no, I have not been _stuck_ as you put it, Padfoot. I felt a slight pull from this place when you arrived and so decided to take a short journey. I can't really explain it, but I came, and there you were, about to turn yourself unwittingly into a ghost. Brilliant, you are, mate." He finished with a chuckle. Sirius laughed softly along with him. After a moment, James continued. "About Harry—"

Another scream rent the air, cutting James off mid sentence. Both men turned to see another woman sprawled on the floor, her brown hair strewn around her. She too sprung to her feet, and breathing hard began to search frantically for something neither of the men could see. At last she turned briefly to face them, and both men's eyes widened in shock.

"Emmy?" Sirius exclaimed, but that was all he could say before the green flames rose once more and whisked her away. Sirius walked to the couch and sat down heavily. Emmeline Vance had been a friend of his from the days of the first war, but knowing she was dead…He bowed his head, holding it gently between rough hands. James sat down beside him, sprawling against the cushions of the couch, his gaze distant and unseeing.

It seemed barely a moment later when a whirring sound began in both their ears and Florean Fortesque, the ice cream maker, was spat upon the carpet. The two marauders stared in wonder at the man in front of them. "What would Voldemort want with an ice cream maker?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," James replied as the green flames cast a sickly glow on each of their faces and Florean was taken away.

It was not long before the next came, and the next after that, and soon a steady stream of people fell onto the floor and flooed away. None of them seemed to notice the two men sitting warily on the couch, watching as each appeared and quickly left.

There was a break from the deaths for a moment or so, and Sirius turned to James in shock. "Was this a battle? How many have we seen so far?"

"Too many," James replied, a dark expression on his face, "and not all wizarding either. This is Voldemort's work to be sure, but as I said, time flows differently here. It has probably been weeks since you, well…"

"Died," Sirius finished gravely. All of a sudden, the light in the room flickered, like a candle in the wind, and a figure in long grey robes landed gracefully on his feet on the carpet. James and Sirius stared in horror as their beloved headmaster brushed invisible dust from his shoulder and turned around. Unlike the rest of the dead, Dumbledore looked directly at them both, first James, then Sirius, with a twinkle in his eye. Just before he stepped into the flames, he gave them both a wink and then was gone. Sirius collapsed against the back of the couch, staring in shock and disbelief at the spot where the wizard had just stood.

"No!" he whispered hoarsely, "It can't be! How could he have let himself be killed?"

James looked at Sirius in surprise, "Let himself? I doubt it happened on purpose, Padfoot. People don't usually plan their deaths."

Sirius looked at James and said in a firm voice, "People don't, but this is Dumbledore. He wouldn't have _let_ himself be killed if it wasn't for the best."

James sighed, but didn't get a chance to respond as another woman appeared. Like all the others before Dumbledore, she did not notice James or Sirius, and they sat back, with a sigh, waiting to see who would be next.

"Mad-eye?" for indeed, the next figure to appear in the room was Alastor Moody. However, Sirius' exclamation was rather inaccurate, as he was missing his trademark eye, a fact he made very prominent when he clapped a hand over the empty socket with a groan.

"Mundungus Fletcher!" they heard him mutter, which was quickly followed by his grunt of "Constant Vigilance" before he too disappeared into the green flames. Both men were shocked by the last appearance, although neither said a word.

After a moment, it occurred to Sirius that he was taking all of the deaths rather well, considering that they all seemed to take place within moments of each other, but then he realized that perhaps it was because he too was dead that it wasn't as devastating as it might have been, had he still been alive.

The flow of souls traveling between worlds began once more, and the two men watched with increasing sorrow as muggles and wizards alike disappeared through the emerald fire. Sirius recognized only a few, but each appearance added to the solemnity of both of the men's hearts.

Suddenly, a face they both did recognize appeared before them, and both men leapt to their feet, hands clenched and eyes ablaze. Peter Pettigrew struggled to his feet whimpering, one hand wrapped around his stub of an arm. Both being hotheaded and slightly irrational, they leapt at the rat of a man, intending to beat him into pulp. However, what they did not expect was the feeling of passing through the small man and landing in a heap on the other side.

"No!" cried Sirius, "all these years waiting to pummel the little bugger and somebody else got to him first?"

James laughed humorlessly and stood, offering a hand to Sirius. By this point, Pettigrew had journeyed onward and they were alone in the common room.

"Don't worry, Padfoot," he said consolingly, "You'll have eternity to pester him once you move on."

"Pester him? I assure you, Prongs, I'll do a lot more than pester…wait, hold up," he paused, his gaze turning suspicious. "Speaking of moving on, where's my fire?" He stared at the grate as though expecting it to light on command. When it remained empty, he turned back to James. "Not that I really wanted to die, but standing in this place and watching all those after me pass through is beginning to get to me."

James just shook his head and resumed his position on the couch. "I don't know, Padfoot," he replied. "I guess we'll just have to wait." Sirius gave a "Humph!" that Hermione Granger would have been proud of and began to pace the room, muttering when he caught James' inquisitive stare, "Well it worked for that once witch, maybe it will work me." James gave a dry chuckle in response before turning his gaze back to the pattern of the carpet.

When the next figure appeared, he appeared mid laugh, a full-blown grin on his face. The grin faded however as he pushed himself from the carpet, realizing that he was no longer in Hogwarts. "What…?" Fred Weasley breathed, turning around slowly to take in the room. His eyes fell first on James, and the older man waited with held breath to see if this young man, for he really was too old to be a boy, would notice him. Sure enough, Fred's eyes widened in horror as he stared at the marauder.

"Harry?" he asked, breathlessly, "No! It can't…wait, you're not Harry, although you look almost as similar to him as George does to me." As soon as he said this, he began to look around frantically, searching for his missing twin. His eyes, however, landed instead on the man standing frozen behind the couch.

"Sirius?" Fred breathed.

A devastated look graced Sirius' face as he responded softly, "Not you too, Fred."

Fred stared, uncomprehending at Sirius. It took a moment or two, but at long last, his eyes widened in understanding and shock. "I'm dead. Bloody hell, I'm dead…?" his voice fell away, and he stared at Sirius in horror. "Me too? Did you say…Has G-George been here? No! He was alive not three minutes ago! Please, tell me you haven't seen him, Sirius!" His gaze was so searching and desperate, that Sirius was floored.

He quickly responded, "No, I haven't Fred, nor anyone else in your family. I just mean, well, there have been a large number of visitors so far." Fred breathed out a sigh of relief.

At last, he spoke, "It makes sense, I guess." He stepped closer to Sirius, "It's been bad. Since you died, I mean. There's a battle going on down there, the largest one yet."

Sirius met Fred's hard gaze with one of his own. "Fred, how long has it been? Since I died, I mean." Fred looked at him, shocked.

"I didn't realize…you mean you don't know…?" Fred was nearly incoherent in his confusion.

"Time's not the same in this place," James finally said. Fred turned his gaze to the older man, and understanding finally lit his face.

"You're James Potter, aren't you?" he said in a hushed and awed tone. "You're Harry's dad!"

James smiled slightly in return, but Sirius cut over their conversation. "Fred! How long has it been? Please…" he trailed off, searching the younger man's face.

Fred grimaced, but said slowly, "It's been two years, Sirius."

Sirius' eyes widened and his gaze lost its focus. "Two years…" Fred opened his mouth to reply, but a sudden whirring sound that was all too familiar to the marauders interrupted him.

"No!" was the first word out of James' mouth upon recognizing their latest visitor. Before he could continue, though, a smaller figure appeared next to the first, a woman with vivid pink hair. They both sat up and without a glance at their surroundings, embraced. "Dora, Dora…" the man murmured to the woman who was at the time silently sobbing into his shirt. "Teddy will be fine. Your mother will take care of him. Shh…" the woman's sobbing subsided slowly and they both pulled apart. The man stood and helped the woman, presumably his wife by the looks of the rings on their fingers, to her feet. Finally, they glanced around the room.

"James!" The man cried in surprise, and he stepped towards the stunned man before him.

James' eyes widened, and he chuckled slightly, also stepping forward. He embraced the visitor and then held him at arms length, looking at him. "You look like shit, Moony," he said with a chuckle.

The man called 'Moony' grinned in response, saying, "A battle will do that to you, Prongs."

Moony's eyes then fell on Fred, whom he enveloped in a comforting embrace. He pulled back and squeezed the younger man's shoulder, before turning to the last person in the room. He stepped away from Fred, who crossed to the woman, Dora, or to those less intimate with her, Tonks, and gave her a warm hug. 'Moony' né Remus Lupin, stared at Sirius for several moments, at last saying,

"Good, you're still here then. Sirius, there's something you need to know…"

* * *

><p>Hey All! Sorry about the slight monotony of this chapter, it's going to pick up in the next chapter, I promise, it just couldn't happen right away. And sorry about the confusion with the other story...completely my fault (oops) I hope it wasn't too confusing.<p>

Thanks for reading, please review =]


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Hogwarts,_ Hermione thought with a happy smile. Nothing was quite as wonderful as stepping through the large oak doors into the Great Hall on September first. Of course, this year was very different: she came with Ginny and Luna rather than Harry and Ron, and while she missed the former, she couldn't extend the kindness to the latter. Yes, this year would be very different, she knew, but she was ready for the change. That was what she kept repeating to herself as she walked down the length of the Hall, along the Gryffindor table where half the familiar faces were missing, to the front of the room. She turned to the teacher's table, but when she saw the vacant Headmaster's chair, she acknowledged the truth: she was _terrified _of the change. Refusing to let panic take over, she turned her attention to Ginny, letting her chatter distract her from her depressing thoughts.

Ginny was talking a mile-a-minute at Luna, who, as always, had a slightly distant look as she scanned the Hall. Ginny seemed undeterred by her obvious distraction, a constant stream of "Did you know"s and "Have you heard"s spilling from her lips.

"…never seen him before, but he's certainly no first year. Oh, Hermione! Have you heard? There's a new guy in our year! And he's very attractive too, although don't tell Harry I said so. I mean for you, of course."

Hermione simply shook her head in reply, accustomed to Ginny's matchmaking attempts. While the girl could be very sweet and sympathetic, she never seemed to understand that Hermione was not interested in a boyfriend at the moment, especially not after the disaster that had been her last relationship. She began to scan the room again, when a silence fell on the Hall. Hermione looked around in surprise, wondering what had affected the students so, and saw that everyone was craning their necks to see the entrance. She leaned out as well, trying to catch a glimpse, however, all she could see was the large form of Hagrid leading a much smaller figure beside him.

"It's the new student," said Ginny in a stage whisper, but Hermione could not really see him through all of the people also trying to see. After a minute or so, Hagrid stopped beside them and gave Hermione a large hug.

"H-Hagrid. Can't-Can't b-breathe." She gasped, and he set her down again. She looked up into his round, robust face, and smiled. She had missed him told him so.

"Missed you too, 'Mione," Hagrid said with a small sniffle. There was a brief silence, before Hermione coughed, looking pointedly to Hagrid's side.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, "Nearly forgot me duties," and he stepped aside. Behind him stood the new boy Ginny had been talking about, and Hermione's breath caught slightly in her throat. "Hermione, Ginny, Luna, meet Simon Blake, our newest seventh year. Although I suppose he's your age, Hermione, so not really seventh year…" Hagrid's voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat self-consciously. Simon gave a soft little chuckle, and he looked up from his feet to meet Hermione's eyes.

Hermione could barely breathe; he looked too familiar, it was too impossible, he couldn't really be…could he? A silence hung over the small group. After a moment, Luna's dreamy words voiced exactly what Hermione had been thinking. Well, to an extent.

"I'm sure there are wrackspurts infesting my brain as we speak, but you look exactly like Sirius Black…" All eyes snapped to Luna. Now that someone had said it, it was impossible to miss. Hagrid, however, stopped the pseudo-interrogation in its tracks.

"Come on, _Simon_, let's go speak with Professor McGonagall in her office. Hermione, Ginny, Luna, it was good to see you," and with a firm hand on Simon's shoulder, the two left the girls at the table. Ginny turned to Hermione, wonder and not a small bit of hope in her eyes.

"Could it really be him, Hermione?"

* * *

><p>Sirius shook his head sharply trying to rid his mind of the shocked girls he had just left behind. It had been two years since he had seen them, but they were already on their way towards becoming very pretty young women. <em>Shut it, old man<em>, he thought to himself, _that is just disgusting. _And truly it was: when he saw the three girls, Sirius couldn't help but feel older than ever before.

"Mister Blake!" McGonagall's voices broke through his thoughts. Sirius' eyes snapped to hers, and he swore his saw a slight twinkle in their dark depths. Nothing so pronounced as Dumbledore's had been, but certainly on its way.

"Professor," he replied with a smirk. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your summons?"

McGonagall was unimpressed. "None of that now, Mr. Blake. Hogwarts will be for you a chance to start afresh, and I will take none of your cheek, do you understand?"

Sirius sense to look ashamed. "Of course, Professor."

McGonagall let a small smile appear on her usually severe face, before resuming her previous expression. "Now, Mr. Blake, you will be living with the seventh year Gryffindors for the next nine months, and I expect you to not dwell on your life before your arrival here in their company. I'm sure I do not have to explain myself on this point."

"Of course not," he assured her, "however, I believe that Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley and the strange blond one suspect something is amiss. Perhaps it might be possible to let them in on the, uh, strange situation, Professor?"

McGonagall thought for a moment, before slowly nodding her head. "I shouldn't think they would be fooled for long, Blake, but perhaps if there is no other way, you might be forced to reveal the truth. Just understand that it is imperative that they be the only ones who know of it, is that clear?"

Sirius nodded and assured her it was. She nodded in return and dismissed him from her office.

On his way out the door, he heard McGonagall's parting remark, and turned,

"By the way, Blake, the 'strange, blond girl' is Luna Lovegood. You had better be careful of her. She may seem not all there, but she's even more observant that Miss Granger, if you know what I mean."

He nodded again and left the office. As Hagrid had long since left the Hallway outside, Sirius made his way to the Great Hall, his mind awash with half formulated plans and schemes for his second final year at Hogwarts.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back in the Great Hall, Hermione, Ginny and Luna had sat at one end of the Gryffindor table, separate from the rest of their house. Hermione was deep in thought, quickly going through mental copies of all the books she had ever read on life after death. Ginny was once again jabbering to no one in particular, and Luna was busy watching invisible creatures through the lenses of her spectrespecs.<p>

Suddenly a throat was cleared behind Hermione, who spun on the bench and stared in amazement at the dark-haired wizard taking a seat beside her.

"Hope you girls don't mind if I sit here," he said, his voice dripping with confidence.

"Not at all, Sirius," Luna replied, as the other girls had yet to regain control of their vocal chords.

"It's Simon, actually," the man said in reply, a quizzical expression on his face. Ginny was not convinced. Perhaps he was twenty years younger, and had lost a large number of wrinkles and grey hairs, but in her eyes, the wizard sitting in front of her was, without a doubt, Sirius Black. Hermione, on the other hand, breathed a sigh of relief. Simon's correction had reinforced what her mental library had already informed her: it was impossible to be brought back from the dead, except under extraordinary circumstances as Harry's had been. Yet still there was that niggling thought in the back of her mind: was not the veil an extraordinary circumstance? Could it really be Sirius Black sitting next to her, casually eating a good-sized portion of pudding?

Interrupting Hermione's interior monologue, Luna replied, "So you changed your name? That's nice," and she pulled out a copy of the Quibbler, turned it upside down, and disappeared from view.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sirius' first week at Hogwarts passed in a whirl of introductions, cleverly-constructed lies and even a detention. As it turns out, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Higgs, did not take kindly to having her office filled with canary creams, although Sirius himself found it rather amusing. Not even a week had passed before 'Simon Blake' was labeled the new (and improved, as Sirius liked to boast) Weasley twins rolled into one. Of course, this exclamation was quickly followed by the appropriate silence that always came when someone who knew him referenced Fred Weasley. However, Sirius knew that Fred would be proud to have his place filled by an accomplished troublemaker once more, not to mention a Marauder in disguise.

Speaking of this disguise, Sirius was proving quite capable of worming his way out of any situation that might point to his true identity. The closest shave had come when Professor Slughorn had mistakenly called him Mr. Black during Potions one day. Sirius had a good time laughing that off, although he became slightly nervous upon seeing the curious glance a certain brilliant, bushy-haired Gryffindor had cast him from the front of the class.

* * *

>Hermione had spent the first week of classes trying to convince Ginny (and herself, to be perfectly frank) that 'Simon' could not possibly be Sirius Black risen from the grave. However, with every new prank he pulled and every bark-like laugh he uttered, Hermione became less and less certain of the truth of her words. On Saturday after the first week of classes, Hermione spent her entire day in the library, not completing her assignments, but instead researching every 'resurrection' ever recorded. However, it was quickly obvious to the resident bookworm that each of these occurrences could be explained by logic.<p>However, as the candles were being lit and the library began to empty, Hermione came across a story that defied all logic and explanation.<p>

Her name was Roberta Hughes, and she had been around 25 years old when her fantastical story occurred. According to all accounts, she had been returning to her home in Sussex in a carriage when an absurd accident occured and she fell from the carriage, off of a bridge, to her death. The driver who sustained minor injuries during the accident had reported seeing her body disappear as she fell through the air towards the valley , records indicated that about five years after the incident, a woman of the same physical description turned up out of the blue in the middle of Diagon Alley without any identification or story to explain her appearance. Her name was Artemisia Luftkin would later go on to become the first female Minister for Magic. How two such strange events could have occurred concerning someone so famous without investigation escaped Hermione's understanding.

Could history repeat itself? Had Sirius Black truly come back from the dead? All these questions swam around Hermione's head, but before she could even begin to answer them, a voice startled her from her concentration.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger, but the library must close now," said an ancient voice from behind the focused Gryffindor. The voice was rough and dry, like two old pieces of parchment rubbing together, and Hermione turned quickly in her chair to meet with the beady black eyes of Madam Pince. After a moment, Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts and stood from her chair. Madam Pince retreated, and she began to pack her many books into a well worn book bag. Giving a slight wave in the direction of the librarian, one that was not returned, she left the library, heading for the Gryffindor tower.

Hermione was just passing by the statue of the one eyed witch when her bag gave an alarmingly loud rip and her books, quills and stacks of parchment, once layered quite neatly, fell to the ground in disarray. Hermione gave a loud "humph" and, with a quickly muttered "Reparo" to the worthless bag, she bent over to begin cleaning up her books. She had all of them in her newly repaired bag, save one book titled "Ressurection: Fact or Fiction?", but just as she bent over to pick it up, it flew several feet across the floor away from her. Hermione straightened abruptly, immediately knowing that she had been tricked, and let her eyes peer into the blackness to find the culprit.

Sure enough, crouched in the darkness, wand extended and with a mischievous gleam in his eye, was Simon Blake, the very subject of Hermione's research. He did not seem to realize that she had caught him, and with that knowledge in mind, Hermione hatched a quick plan to find out the truth once and for all.

Bending down, she reached for the book once more, all the while aware that the man hiding behind the statue was prepared to pull it out from under her once more. As she predicted, just as her hand was about to touch the cover of the book, it was whisked away. She repeated the process twice more, finally ending up right in front of the snickering mischief-maker. At last, she raised her head and looked the man in the eyes. He seemed a bit startled that she had cottoned on (please, she didn't have to be the smartest witch of her age to figure it out), but doubled over laughing anyway. She shook her head, and disguising her curiosity with a weary voice, she said to him,

"Are you quite finished, Sirius?"

Her question, rather than spark the seriousness and confusion she almost hoped to hear, did not seem to phase the man, as he continued to laugh uproariously. Her eyes widened at the implications, and she stood abruptly, her bag falling to the floor with a thud. Still, the man continued to chuckle. Hermione had had enough.

"Sirius Black, you stop that chortling this instant, or so help me god, I will castrate you in your sleep."

However, this only seemed to make him laugh harder, and gasping for breath, he replied, "But 'Mione, it was just too funny, and your face, what a..." His voice faded into silence as he finally registered what she had called him. His eyes widened in horror, for a brief moment, before he placed a mask of confusion on his face. "What did you just call me?" he asked quietly.


End file.
